


if you wanna

by starbuckstomlinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 18-year-old Liam, Blow Jobs, Casual Sex, Dirty Talk, First Time, Goodbye Sex, M/M, Mild D/s, Tattoo Artist Zayn, accidental feelings, almost health code violation, more tags to be added i feel certain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:44:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2892476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbuckstomlinson/pseuds/starbuckstomlinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn turned and looked at Liam for a long moment. “Any idea where you want it?”</p><p>Liam blushed and lifted the hem of his shirt a little. “Like, sorta like, down--over here, maybe?” He pointed to somewhere below the waistband of his jeans, near his hipbone. “Is that...is that, like, okay?”</p><p>Ignoring Louis’ smirk, Zayn cleared his throat. “Uh, it’s your tattoo.” He bit his lip. “Wherever.”</p><p>***<br/>In which Liam is getting his first tattoo right before he's set to leave for college, and Zayn is a professional, dammit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you wanna

**Author's Note:**

> title from the vaccines' song of the same name (the chorus goes "if you wanna come back it's alright" so)
> 
> eternal blame/thanks to ginger and christina for forcing me to write this, as usual
> 
> i've been sitting on this for a REALLY long time bc i wanted to finish ""part one"" before i started posting but, yeah obviously i didn't wholly do that. part one IS almost done, though, so.
> 
> (there may be a very small amount of angst ahead. and a very large amount of smut. sorry ?)
> 
> ***  
> Absolutely none of this is real. Obviously.

“Will they even let me in there?” Niall eyed the entrance skeptically, hanging back.

Liam grabbed his hand. “It’s a tattoo parlor, not a bar. You just have to be 18 to _get_ a tattoo,” he added gleefully.

“You know, I didn’t even really need to come with you,” Niall hedged. “It’s not like the eye doctor; you can drive yourself home after you get a tattoo...”

“I know you don’t like needles, man,” Liam told him seriously. “You don’t have to like, watch. I just--can you just--?” His excitement, which had been building all day, faltered slightly at the thought of what he was about to do.

“Alright, fine, I’ll come in and hold your hand, Li,” Niall teased. “Let’s do this.”

Liam pulled open the door, his hand still in Niall’s. “You know you _are_ actually gonna have to hold my hand, right?” he whispered.

Laughing, Niall followed him into the lobby, which they were both a little surprised to find was...very normal. Almost clinical, which Liam had told him was a good thing when someone was gonna stick a needle in you. Niall shivered at the thought and unconsciously tightened his grip on Liam’s hand.

“Huh-uh, man, _I’m_ the one gonna be doing that. You gotta be strong for me, Nialler. _Please_ ,” Liam added, a tad overdramatic. “Don’t bail on me, not on my _birthday_.”

Niall swatted his arm. “I’m not gonna bail on you, ya donut. Just don’t much like needles, is all.”

Liam shrugged. “Pretend it’s...like, paint?”

“Well, if you’re having to pretend it’s paint, you might want to hold off on getting a _permanent_ tattoo, lads.”

The owner of the new voice popped his head around one of the half-walls dividing the lobby from the rest of the parlor and eyed them with a smirk. “Shit, you two even old enough to be in here?”

“Fuck.” Niall tugged on Liam’s hand. “I _told_ you!”

Liam froze for a second, and then he realized the stranger was laughing.

“Only joking,” he reassured them, winking at Niall. “Well, less about the permanent tattoo part.” He stepped around the divider, and Liam could see that not only was the guy not much older than they were, but he was evidently not afraid of the needle himself, as his arms were littered with ink. He extended one tattooed arm toward Liam, and they shook hands. “I’m Louis. I don’t work here.”

Liam grinned at him, elbowing Niall. “I’m Liam. I’m eighteen. Er...I mean I’m...”

“It’s his birthday,” Niall interrupted helpfully. “He wants a tattoo. Not me, couldn’t get near me with one of those gun things. And anyway, I’m not eighteen yet.” He stopped talking suddenly and his eyes got wide. “You’re not gonna kick me out, are you?”

Louis laughed again. “Well, like I said, I don’t actually work here. So I don’t technicallyhave that authority. Zayn, on the other hand...” He let his voice trail off meaningfully, and was rewarded with looks of apprehension from the two younger boys.

“Oh come off it, Lou,” came another voice from behind the wall. “What’d I tell you about scaring away my customers?”

“Oh, they’re _your_ customers now, are they?” Louis called back, teasing.

“I’m the one doing the work, so yeah, I guess they are.” The mysterious “Zayn” stepped sheepishly into the lobby, sending a half-hearted glare in Louis’ direction.

“No ‘they’,” Niall corrected quickly. “Just him.” He pointed at Liam, stepping back from the newcomer, who had even more tattoos than Louis, and whose eyes were now glued to Liam.

“Uh, hi?” Liam started to do a little wave, and then immediately dropped his arm, silently berating himself. “I’m Liam. I...wanted to uh, get a tattoo?”

Zayn seemed to shake himself out of a stupor and quickly replaced his dazed look with a smirk. “Really, that why you’re here?” he teased, letting the corners of his mouth turn up a little more than he usually would, to make sure this poor kid didn’t think he was being mean.

Liam blushed anyway. “Uh, yeah. I just turned eighteen and--”

“Today!” Niall chimed in again.

“Yeah, today, and, well...my mom never let me have any, so...”

“Quite right.” Louis shook his head. “Smart lady, your mother. Shouldn’t get tattoos--they make you look like a no-good punk.” He held up his arms, giving them a better look at his own. “See?”

Zayn swatted him good-naturedly. “Hush, you.” He turned back to Liam. “What were you thinking of getting?” he asked, gesturing for them to follow him behind the dividing wall. Niall looked nervous, but Liam grabbed his hand again, and they joined Zayn and Louis in the cramped office.

“Um....” Liam glanced around at the room, trying to draw inspiration from the art on the walls. He wondered if it was Zayn’s. “I hadn’t really thought about it?”

Zayn’s eyes widened a little at that, and Louis snorted. “You’re his worst nightmare, really,” Louis told Liam, patting Zayn on the shoulder.

“Worst--? Wow, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about _getting_ one, I just thought maybe...you could, you know, help me?” Liam’s voice went up a little at the end, hopeful and pleading, and Zayn bit his lip.

Taking a deep breath, Zayn nodded. “It’s a little against my policy but, yeah, sure, let’s figure something out.” He nodded to his friend. “Louis, grab the book, will ya?”

Grumbling, Louis fetched a binder full of generic tattoo art from the front table, and Zayn waved Liam around the desk to look through it for a design. He shook his head a little when Liam jabbed a finger at the barbed wire, turned the page quickly when they reached the skulls, and straight up slapped his hand away when Liam paused on the Chinese symbols. Zayn did look a little impressed when Liam cocked his head at one of the Batman designs, but it was hardly first tattoo material.

Niall couldn’t even see over the desk, but he was making unhelpful suggestions anyway, egged on by Louis. “How about a portrait of me on your bicep?” he snickered. “You could get your mum’s name in a heart--she’d love that!”

At that, Louis doubled over. “Can you _imagine_!” he howled.

Liam raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never...met my mother?”

“Irrelevant.”

After nearly twenty minutes of browsing and joking, though, Zayn snapped the book shut. “I’ve got a better idea,” he announced, scooting his chair over to the ancient desktop computer and motioning for Liam to look over his shoulder.

“Internet?” Liam guessed.

Zayn shook his head. “Nah, I got some of my own stuff on here I thought you might like.” He turned and looked at Liam for a long moment. “Any idea where you want it?”

Liam blushed and lifted the hem of his shirt a little. “Like, sorta like, down--over here, maybe?” He pointed to somewhere below the waistband of his jeans, near his hipbone. “Is that...is that, like, okay?”

Ignoring Louis’ smirk, Zayn cleared his throat. “Uh, it’s your tattoo.” He bit his lip. “Wherever.”

“I mean, that’s not...that’s not weird? Do people...?” Liam trailed off, still holding his shirt up just enough for Zayn to see the outline of what looked suspiciously like a six-pack. How old did this kid say he was?

“People get tattoos on their _dicks_ , Li,” Niall informed him wisely. “This is nothing.” He looked to Louis for approval, and the other boy nodded, solemn.

“‘s true. I’d show you mine, but--”

Zayn gave him the finger and touched Liam’s arm softly to regain his attention. “There is fine,” he assured him. “Did you want something colored, or just simple black?”

“Ummmm...maybe just black? You know, for now.”

Nodding, Zayn clicked through a few folders on the computer. “Hard lines or soft? You want a lot of detail?”

Liam shrugged helplessly. “Something that like, looks cool, I guess?”

Louis snorted, earning another glare from Zayn.

“Cool I can definitely do. What about something like this?” He pointed to the screen, directing Liam’s eyes to some of his best watercolors. “But just black?”

Liam gaped. “How would you even...?”

Smirking, Zayn opened a few more folders, showing Liam more examples. “Let the artist worry about that part.”

Unable to stand the suspense, Niall, joined them on the other side of the desk, Louis peering over his shoulder. “Neato.” He patted Liam’s shoulder. “Definitely cool, mate.”

Louis nodded. “Zayn’s the best.” He didn’t even sound all that sarcastic, which Liam realized meant he must be pretty serious.

“Hardly the best,” Zayn muttered. “But I’ve gotten pretty good.” He grinned over his shoulder at Liam. “What do you think? Wanna give it a go?”

The question made Liam’s stomach turn, but not with nerves like he’d been anticipating. Instead, it was...something else. Something he probably shouldn’t dwell on if Zayn’s hands were going to be that near his crotch. Liam squeezed his eyes shut for a second and nodded, hoping the others would chalk up his weirdness to pre-needle jitters. Who knew, maybe it _was_ pre-needle jitters. The fucking weirdest ( _horniest_ ) form of anxiety anyone had ever experienced before getting a tattoo. Maybe, he told himself, maybe it was even sorta normal?

* * *

As promised, Liam was cutting off the circulation in Niall’s hand, before he’d even taken a seat on the bench. It reminded him of a doctor’s office, all sterile and clean. Zayn smiled reassuringly at him, and Liam let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“I’m not gonna lie and say it doesn’t sting a little, but do you really think Louis and I would have all these if they hurt that bad?”

Louis nodded. “Me, I get off on the pain, but Zayn’s kind of a pussy, so he if can handle it, I’m sure you can.” He threw a wink in Liam’s direction. “Strapping fella like you.”

“I can make him leave,” Zayn told Liam seriously.

Liam tried to chuckle. “I don’t mind.”

“You’re gonna have to drop your pants,” Niall whispered, leaning close.

“Nothing I haven’t seen,” Louis assured him, his leer somehow friendly.

Liam went bright red. It hadn’t quite occurred to him yet that he would have to like. Pull his jeans down to allow Zayn access to the place he wanted the tattoo. Stupidstupidstupid. Was it too late to get it on his arm instead? Or his foot or something?

Looking sympathetic (and completely misunderstanding the reason for Liam’s blush), Zayn patted his arm. “Alright, Louis, out. I won’t have you making him uncomfortable.”

“He wasn’t--I’m not--” Liam tried to argue, but his words got lost in Zayn’s reassuring gaze. “Okay yeah. Niall, too, yeah? I mean. It’s not such a big deal, just. I’ll be fine, yeah?”

Niall nodded slowly. “So you drag me all the way here only to kick me out when you need me most?”

“No! I don’t--I mean I didn’t...I don’t _need_ you here, Niall,” Liam finally hissed, trying awkwardly to communicate with his eyes.

Niall, bless him, took the hint and got up to join Louis. “Wait for you outside?”

“I, um, you don’t have to.”

Louis raised his eyebrows meaningfully at Zayn, who was now also blushing just a little bit.

Niall shrugged. “Alright. Call if you need me?”

“Yeah, of course.” Liam’s shoulders sagged, maybe in relief or maybe not. “ _Thanks_ , Nialler," he added seriously.

Winking, Niall followed Louis out of the room with a little wave. “Have funnnn,” he sang, and somewhere in the hallway, Louis cackled.

“So,” Zayn choked out as soon as the door was closed. “I am actually gonna have to ask you to....uh....unbutton your jeans. And, uh...”

Liam blushed deeper, but he was already doing as Zayn instructed.

“Okay and um, just, like, tug them down....a bit? And you can get up on the table, like.” Zayn hastily turned his back and busied himself pulling on the gloves, attempting to give Liam some privacy (and hide his own red cheeks). He silently cursed himself, marveling at how unprofessional he was being. He regularly inked people in all kinds of terribly inappropriate places, and he couldn’t even form a sentence to tell this kid to slide his waistband a little lower for a fucking hip tattoo.

By the time he turned back around, Liam was perched uncertainly on the table, jeans barely hanging off his hips as he played with the waistband of his boxer briefs. “Um, this okay?”

“Perfect,” Zayn said, a little too quickly. “Er. Yeah. Good.”

Liam offered him a tiny smile, and Zayn sucked in a breath. He could do this.

“So, you, um, it’s your birthday?” he managed, trying to relax the obvious tension in the room. And give himself something to think about besides how close his hands were about to be to Liam’s dick.

Liam just nodded, leaving Zayn to continue his pathetic attempts at normal conversation.

“That’s cool. You, uh, what kinda stuff did you get?”

“Money, mostly.” Liam shrugged. “I’m heading off to college soon, and I was hoping I’d get lucky and...make it in here today, so, you know, tattoos.”

Zayn snapped the latex glove hard against his skin. “I do know,” was all he said.

“So, do you, uh...” Liam shifted awkwardly on the table. “How do you want me?” His face flushed as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and Zayn started coughing to hide the choking sound he definitely just made. ( _Up against the wall, like, yesterday. With my mouth wrapped around your dick._ )

“Just--er, lie back,” he forced out.

Liam did so, leaning up a little on his elbows so he could look at Zayn. “Like this?”

In his head, Zayn was joining him on the table, kneeling between his legs and yanking his underwear off entirely and blowing his fucking mind. In reality, Zayn nodded stiffly and took out the sterilized needle, deliberately not looking at Liam below the waist. This approach clearly wasn’t going to work for long, however, so he focused on non-sexy things, like bugs and his grandma and puppies and Liam’s big brown eyes. _Shit_.

Taking a deep breath, Zayn steadied the gun in his hand. “Lift your shirt a bit more,” he instructed, his vice miraculously even. “And lie back all the way....that’s it.” Liam obeyed, still craning his neck up so he could see Zayn. “Now, um, would you rather...?” Zayn’s voice trailed off as he reached for Liam’s hip. ( _Can I slide your boxers down or would you rather show me how you like it?_ )

“Go ahead,” Liam nodded, clearly not caring that Zayn was about to combust. Thank god his hands didn’t shake when he was nervous.

Zayn revealed the skin below Liam’s hipbone, careful not to actually touch. “Here’s where you want it?”

Liam leaned up a little to look and nodded his confirmation. “That’s, yeah, that’s good.” His voice sounded at little strained, and Zayn kicked himself for not making him feel more comfortable. Some professional he was.

“Alright then.” He used his most soothing voice as he cleaned the area, but he could feel Liam tensing up. “Try and relax,” he said. “Sorry it’s a little cold.”

“No, it’s not...it’s not that,” Liam muttered, almost to himself. “Keep going.”

Zayn stopped breathing.

“I mean.....I’m good. Don’t stop. Er! You can start. With the tattoo. Whenever.” Liam squeezed his eyes shut and rested his head against the table, and Zayn just wanted to kiss him. But that would be highly unprofessional. He also wanted to blow him right there on the table. But that would be a very serious violation of at least four different health code stipulations. And also highly unprofessional. So he did the only thing he could do. 

“Hold still, this is gonna sting a little.”

* * *

“That--” Liam took a deep breath, “--that wasn’t so bad.”

Zayn set aside the gun and grabbed gauze off the table. “Told you,” he grinned as Liam sat up. “Now you wanna take a look before I cover it?”

Craning his neck down, Liam inspected the fresh ink, smiling to himself. There, right below his hipbone, was a perfect black feather, artfully shaded into an almost-realistic watercolor. The area was shiny and raised, but he could tell it was exactly what he hadn’t even known he wanted. He looked up at Zayn, eyes bright and happy. “It’s _perfect_.”

“Glad you like it.” They sat there for a moment, grinning at each other, and then Zayn seemed to snap out of it, leaning forward again to apply the bandage. “Keep this on for, like, two hours, yeah? And you might want to keep your...keep your jeans, like, loose? Just...you know, if you want, like.”

Miraculously, Liam appeared to understand, or at least he nodded like he did. “What about after?”

Zayn handed him the card laying out their recommended procedures for tattoo aftercare and marked a couple of things on the back, explaining that he’d mostly just have to be a bit more careful with the area--at least, Zayn is pretty sure that’s what he did. He sort of just kept talking, hoping he wasn’t spewing utter nonsense and hoping that Liam didn’t notice he was blatantly just staring. 

He shook himself out of it, figuring the card would explain anything he’d missed, and pulled off his gloves. “Got the time?”

Liam checked his watch (of course he had a fucking watch). “Four-forty.”

“Excellent. Then I can start closing up, since I can’t fit anyone else in before five.”

“Oh.” Liam’s face fell. “I guess...I guess I should...”

Zayn hurriedly interrupted him. “No need! Er, I mean I don’t have to kick you out until five, so...” He tried to shrug nonchalantly, but ended up like more of a spasm. “If you want to, like...relax and--get used to it, or whatever. It’s cool.”

“Cool,” Liam repeated. He slid off the table and tugged his jeans back up carefully, letting them hang off his hips, unbuttoned. Zayn did not stare. “Are you...usually here by yourself? Or, like, with Louis? Who even _is_ he? Does he work here, too?” Liam seemed to catch himself, snapping his mouth shut like he’d asked too many questions (not that Zayn would have cared).

He busied himself cleaning things as he tried to work through Liam’s queries. “A lot of times it’s just me first thing and last, yeah. Less clients, you know. And, uh, Lou’s just a friend, really. Also a client, which is why he’s here all the fucking time.” Zayn let a little fondness slip into his voice. “He definitely doesn’t work here--would you let that idiot near you with a needle?”

Liam laughed. “Probably not,” he agreed, following Zayn into the office. “Some of this is yours, yeah?” he asked, gesturing to the art on the walls.

“Some.” Zayn settled in front of the computer, the corner of his mouth turning up when Liam came around the desk and pretended not to peer over his shoulder. “Lots of different artists, really. You, uh, you interested in, like, art?”

Shrugging, Liam rested a hand on the desk. “I guess so? I mean, I like it. Usually. Some of it’s weird.” He chuckled nervously, and Zayn noticed that his jeans were still unbuttoned. ( _Try to avoid unnecessary friction_ , those were the words he’d used. Really.)

“Yeah, weird,” Zayn agreed uncertainly, tilting his head up over his shoulder to meet Liam’s eyes. He saw him swallow, and then his brain shorted out as Liam’s lips were suddenly on his.

After only a moment, Liam pulled back, flushed and panicked, and Zayn made an unfamiliar sound in his throat before grabbing Liam’s shoulder and pulling him back down into a much dirtier version of what Liam had just initiated. Liam sank into the kiss, forcing Zayn to turn his body to face Liam’s, and then Liam was practically in his lap, fresh tattoo forgotten.

Zayn tried to be mindful of the tender bit of skin, but Liam was grinding down in his lap, and that made it difficult for him to be mindful of anything, really. It seemed Liam had forgotten, as well, until he twisted just so, and the waistband of his jeans dragged over his hip. He hissed in pain, and Zayn immediately froze.

“Shit, Liam,” he began. “We should--”

Liam tried to pull him closer with a hand on Zayn’s neck, all nervous laughter. “No, no, I’m fine, really, it was just--the angle. I’m good...I’m fine, please--”

After allowing a brief kiss, Zayn pushed at Liam’s shoulders. “Nah, babe, I’m not gonna stop.” Liam sagged a little in relief, but he still looked confused as Zayn started to get up. “Just gotta get you more comfortable,” Zayn explained, maneuvering Liam up against the desk. He kissed him once more before sliding to his knees, and Liam’s breath caught as Zayn gently pulled his jeans down off his hips. “How’s this?” Zayn murmured against Liam’s thigh.

“G--good,” Liam managed, moving an arm back to brace himself on the desk.

Zayn chuckled. “Better, yeah?” Without waiting for a response, he moved his fingers back up to Liam’s hips, this time to peel off his boxer-briefs, carefully avoiding the bandaged area. “Mmm, can’t wait to get my mouth on you,” he breathed, almost to himself, and he felt Liam tense up as his hand almost slid off the desk in shock.

“You--you what.”

“That okay?” Zayn wondered up at him, suddenly unsure.

Liam blinked at him. “Mo--more than. _More than okay_. It’s only--it’s just...I’ve never exactly done...” he gestured vaguely with his free hand, “--this? I just...I don’t wanna, like, don’t wanna fuck it up, I guess?”

Zayn huffed out a laugh. “ _You’re_ worried about screwing this up?”

Blushing a little, Liam shrugged. “I--I guess.” Then he grinned down at Zayn. “More than okay, though,” he repeated.

Zayn nodded at him. “Good.” He finished stripping off Liam’s clothes, leaving him naked from the waist down, and sat back to admire him for a moment. “Last chance to admit you’re lying about being eighteen,” he joked, earning a startled laugh from Liam.

“Cross my heart,” Liam promised, and Zayn grinned up at him, noting Liam’s dark pupils and flushed cheeks, and the way his breath was coming almost in pants.

Zayn had only slightly more experience than Liam, having given exactly one blowjob in his life, and received only a couple, but he didn’t really expect Liam to be too bothered, so he just went for it.

Leaning forward, Zayn licked out, his tongue brushing Liam’s inner thigh teasingly. Liam shuddered, and Zayn smirked before reaching a hand up to grasp Liam’s cock. He stroked him roughly a few times, getting him fully hard, and then closed his lips around the tip.

Liam moaned and shifted his weight around until Zayn grabbed him by the hips and pinned him back against the desk.

He pulled back just long enough to whisper, “None of that,” and then resumed his slow exploration of Liam’s cock.

Briefly, Liam let a hand drift towards Zayn’s hair, but he snatched it back at the last second, like he was catching himself. Zayn shook his head a little and blinked up at him in silent encouragement. When Liam still hesitated, Zayn reached up to wrap his fingers around Liam’s wrist and pull his hand down to rest in Zayn’s hair. He felt Liam’s sigh of relief as he tightened his grip slightly, and Zayn hummed in pleasure, making Liam jerk his hips up before Zayn pinned him back against the edge of the desk.

After a few moments, Zayn tapped his fingers against Liam’s waist in an unmistakable “stay put” gesture and slid a hand down so he could palm himself though his way-too-tight jeans. Liam let out another moan at that, and his grip on Zayn’s hair tightened almost uncomfortably (which only served as encouragement for Zayn, who redoubled his efforts, mouth getting sloppier as he brought Liam--and himself--closer to the edge). Unable to hold back, Liam thrust shallowly into his mouth, and Zayn didn’t even bother trying to stop him.

“I’m--Zayn, I think I’m....”

Zayn put his hand back on Liam’s hip reassuringly and licked him again before pulling off, and he hadn’t even gotten his jeans undone before Liam had a hand on himself and was coming with a shout. Zayn could feel a little wetness in his cheek, and that was what pushed him over the edge to join Liam.

Liam’s shirt caught on the desk as he slumped to the floor, and Zayn reached up to free him before curling into his side, carefully avoiding the bandage.

“Happy birthday,” he murmured, a sleepy smile coloring his words, and Liam looped an arm around Zayn’s shoulders to tug him close.

“I guess everyone’s gotta have a good story for their first tattoo,” Liam joked, and Zayn snorted.

“Just consider locking the door next time, lads, yeah?” Louis called from the lobby. Liam flushed, and they both dissolved into giggles.

Zayn lifted his head just enough to call back that Louis was just jealous, and then he heard a huff as the door clanged shut, leaving them alone again.

“Best birthday ever,” Liam whispered.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> next chapter will be up soon, promise ! xx
> 
> also i should warn that this first bit is a little deceptively fluffy so. yeah. consider yourself warned ;)


End file.
